Sincerely, Neal
by ArmedWithAComputer
Summary: Dear fanfiction writers... I beg of you - stop the whump.


**A/N: _Writer's Block_ is a pain - as is working on a computer that is not your own. I wrote this for fun.**

**Disclaimer: Jeff Eastin would never write something this awful.**

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Peter sighed as he put the letter in the mail box, shaking his head sadly as he did so. He didn't even know why he had agreed to do this for Neal… it wouldn't make any difference. There were just some things about life that could not be changed and this was one of them.

_Ah well_… the kid would just have to accept reality at some point.

The FBI agent's lips twisted into a sympathetic smile at the thought of the conman. Neal was currently holed up in the hospital, having yet again been shot. All had gone as usual _(near death incidents, angst, phone call to Elizabeth, ect.) _until Neal's anesthesia had worn off, and then the entire hospital had been subject to listen to the conman's indignant rant. The staff was not made up of n00bs however, and thus they were used to such ravings. After just a few minutes, the nurses easily tuned out the complaints about things such as _fanfiction, whump, _and the sadistic demons known as_ fangirls._

Once Peter had managed to calm down the hysterical fedora-wearing man, Neal's eyes had lit up in a way that everyone knows means trouble.

And thus he had started his plan: _write a letter to the fanfiction writers_. Ask – no, _beg _them to stop the whump and angst. The way Neal figured, nobody could be so sadistic as to push a cute convict past his breaking point.

Peter and Mozzie had attempted to talk him out of it. _It will just encourage them - _they had tried to tell him, but to no avail. Finally, after having argued for quite some time, Peter gave in. He scrounged up some paper (he managed to scratch out the _From the Desk of Reese Hughes_ bit at the top) and a box of colored pencils (generously donated by June's granddaughters) for the conman and sat back and watched as Neal scratched away eagerly.

After several hours of deliberation and revision – Neal had proudly held up the finished copy. The colored pencils were worn down to little nubs and parts of Neal's hands were beginning to blister – but his victorious smile was contagious.

But as they all read Neal's letter, their smiles began to fall… nobody liked a disappointed Caffrey. It made everybody's heart hurt, seeing his eyes get all big and blue… his eyebrows would furrow together in a way that made Peter think of a kicked puppy – and the only thing you wanted to do was shoot the person that had made Neal upset and then give the conman a crushing hug.

And Neal was sure to be disappointed in the lack of results his letter would get. Maybe – _maybe _– if he had just asked for the fanfiction writers to ease up a bit… to only whump every other week or so… there might be some results from sympathetic fangirls. _But…_ Peter shook his head as he thought of the letter. Neal might as well have asked for the moon.

Peter rubbed his eyes wearily as he walked away from the mail box. Life was so unfair sometimes.

_Dear Fanfiction Writers,_

_While I understand that you view your stories as a form of love and support – I must ask you to desist. Immediately. I am at my breaking point. I cannot handle anymore of what you call 'whump'. At your hands I have been in car accidents, held at gunpoint, taken hostage, tortured, had my shoulder dislocated (numerous times), and have even suffered from allergic reactions. I will not even attempt to count how many times I have suddenly and mysteriously caught a cold, sinus infection, fever, ect. Sniffle!fics get old. Fast._

_I truly do not understand your fixation with me being damaged in some way. If it's not physical, it's emotional. Angst… where to begin… by all rights I should be in a straight jacket by now. I really do not enjoy being forced to have suicidal thoughts. It is – in no way imaginable – appealing._

_And I am a very appealing individual._

_...Or so I've been told._

_Which brings me to another topic… which one of you thought Peter and I would make a good pair? Or Mozzie and I, for another matter? I prefer people a bit more curvy, if you catch my drift. Slash… it's disturbing. Almost as disturbing as the disciplinary!fics._

_The day Peter spanks me is the day I go back to prison. End of story._

_And I am really – REALLY – getting tired of having guns pointed at me. I would be able to tolerate it a bit more if the guns didn't actually go off. Hospitals are not fun places to wake up in. Too much blood – too few cute nurses._

_I'm running out of room – so I will end with this._

_Please – PLEASE find it within your hearts to whump no more. I beg of you._

_Sincerely,_

_Neal Caffrey_

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**Like I said - it was written for fun. But... tell me. What would your response to Neal's plea be?**


End file.
